A Rose on the Road
by ClaireDove
Summary: Anya and Dimitri set off to a life changing trip across France.
1. La Gare des Invalides

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. This story is a fictional non-profitable work.

* * *

 **First Chapter**

 **La Gare des Invalides**

Friday. Late afternoon. The sun was rapidly drowning down into the blurred horizon. The streets of Paris, usually crammed and lively at this hour of the day, were now endued for a few straggling people who rushed their ways towards a shelter. Dimitri, for his part, locked inside himfelf, hadn't notice the flurry until he stumbled violently onto a little man. That was enough to shake him up into reality again. While he mumbled something as to apologize, not really interested about the man's welfare , he noted his improper open umbrella. It would rain. If that was another day, in another city, Dimitri would certainly laugh to himself before spitting a jesting comment to his friend Vlad, but all he could do this time was to keep walking down the dim streets. The lamp lights started to glint. The empty _magasins_ were now stroking a mysterious light from their interior, making the falling night even more ghostly. All of a sudden he remembered the gracious moment when Anya came out of _a_ luxury store wearing a beautiful lavender dress. Her pure and childish smile returned amuckly to his mind, and he had to acknowledge again she was already becoming Anastasia. He sensed a bitter flavour bulking in his mouth. Remembering that made him feel sick. She danced, she laughed, she grabbed his arm affecttively as if they both were feeling the same. Anya wasn't aware of the troubles he was in. At that time her heart was wide open, whereas Dimitri's was completely broken. He knew something she didn't. They couldn't be together. They couldn't enroll themselves into love. The bitter liquid became thicker. _Anya is happy now. She is ready to start a whole new life. She has finally returned to her real home, she has finally found her grandma. She is fine!_ Dimitri tried to ease his grieve down, but the pain just got worse. So he stopped roaming in order to recover from that sudden sickness. He lowered his head a little bit and took a deep breath. After a couple of seconds he felt better. Then he recalled the comical umbrella man he had crashed onto. He peeked the heavy sky above and instinctively looked down to his old watch. It was five fifteen and the sun had already disappeared between the dark clouds. He knew it would rain sooner or later, and he wasn't holding an umbrella. That wasn't like he cared about his clothes being soaked anyway. Actually, a rain washing could do good for him.

* * *

After two long hours wandering through unknown streets, his clothes so wet his body started trembling from the cold touch, Dimitri decided that was time to be a man on the run. The rain had stopped some minutes ago. There was no reason left for him to stay. He had to be a grown up man. Roving was a thing for a boy. Walking under the rain was a thing for a stupid boy. Dimitri was definitely not a boy. Since he was only eight, he's been working hard and restlessly, so he knew life toughness better than men three times his age. He was definitely not a boy _._ Why would he keep losing himself in Paris narrow streets, _avenues_ and _boulevards_? The night was utterly settled. He shoudn't be there anymore, but Paris was so sightly shining he found it hard to leave. _The City of Light_. He would miss it. He would miss its charm, he would miss its promises. And he knew deep inside once he left the city he would never find the key to his heart again. It would remain there eternally, lost on some the Opera stairs, or forgotten inside a glass of champagne. Or secretly kept in the swell of Anya's tiny breasts . There would be no way back. He shook his head as to vanish away any trace of fear in his mind. He had to be brave. He could not divert from his mission.

Paris needed to be left forever.

He took his way through the _Rue de Sevres,_ turned to the right and passed by the monument of _Pasteur Breteuil_ , another name he couldn't even read. He sped up his pace and the _Avenue de Segur_ was nothing but a blur to his eyes. No, he could not succumb; he could not let Paris cast its spell upon him. He had to be out. He had to leave. That wasn't place for a man like him- a man dressing the same set of clothes for the thousandth time. He was a filthy mess. The servant boy had grown up to be a loathsome conman. He sold stolen goods, he tricked innocent people, he lied to naïve young women… Luckily someday the soviet police would find him at shady quarters of St. Petersburg and ravish his existence out of Earth. Or his destiny was to die alone in bleak Russian winter. Indeed he should wait for this to come. Winter would snow down only nine months later. He would live in the meantime. What would he do during the other seasons? Vodka! _Shlyukhi_! One liter of alcohol a day would be enough to obliterate Anya's slender figure. A women a day would be enough to make him forget Anya's strong scent. That wouldn't be bad at all. He still had a few good friends in Russia. Mikhail, the whorehouse manager. Vyacheslav, the opium dealer. Anton, the foul theater owner. Good friends. Good friends, what a joke! They could kill him if that was necessary.

Vlad has decided to stay in Paris with Sophie. After all, he deserved to be happy. Vladimir was a good man. The sweetest one Dimitri knew, actually. How life would be without him? Vlad has been a friend and a father to Dimitri since they met in 1920. At that time, Dimitri was only a fourteen-year-old bony chit laying on a filthy floor, resting after a hard day of work. He was almost losing the battle against sleepiness when he felt someone smoothly approaching. He lost his breath for a while. Surely something bad would happen if he let his guard down. Thus he lugged a thin knife from his pocket and waited for the man's first move...

 _Are you hungry, my boy?_ Dimitri then lift his face up to meet Vlad's chubby one and noticed a kind smile on his face. A good man: _Vladimir Vanya Voinitsky Vasilovich._

At that memory Dimitri's chest distended with an odd warm feeling. He almost let a grin half grow on his face. He would miss Vlad very much. Very much! Well, maybe dying under stinging snow was excessively dramatic, he confessed to himself. He was young; he had an entire lifetime ahead. He could work as most of Russian people; he could even find a nice woman and have children. And Vlad would come once a year to visit him and his family.

Maybe.

At the _Avenue du Quesne_ he quickened his pace even more. He was decidedly heading back to St. Petersburg, even though he didn't know how to get there. Rushing was not enough. He needed a map or someone to tell him his way. He didn't speak French, but he knew _gare_ meant station. He had an idea. _Oui!_ _La gare, la gare! La gare!_ He first asked a man wearing an elegant overcoat, who turned away before grunting cursing words Dimitri couldn't understand. Next he stopped a drunk young man who wasn't even capable of minding his own way. His third attempt succeeded. A gentle old lady understood what he wanted and explained the way to the station by body gestures _._

He followed the woman's instructions.

 _Tourner à la gauche; Avenue Breteuil; Boulevard des Invalides; Rue des Constantines..._

… _la Gare des Invalides._

After ten minutes he arrived.

There wasn't too many people there. He first saw a group of French men talking cheerfully, and after he peeked a young mother trying to quiet her baby's cry down. At the opposite side of the station, a happy couple studied attentively the landscape paintings on the wall. Right behind them, three people were sitting on a large brown bench, two of them reading magazines; the other one just waiting for something he wouldn't know. Dimitri didn't take longer on his observation. He had something important to do. Fortunately, there were only three people standing in the line he mentally chose. Soon he would be out. He went towards the line when some blurred images began to form in his mind against his will.

 _Anya at the ball dancing with graceful gentlemen, swaying and whirling across the enlightened ball room. Anya grinning! The royal crown on the top of her red head, a sparkling diamond jewelry._

She doesn't need me.

A blonde young lady bought her ticket and left the line.

 _Anya eating all the food she can swallow, sucking her luscious fingers, letting out a satisfied groan. Anya happy!_

She doesn't need me.

A mustached short man bought his ticket and left the line.

 _Anya cheerfully playing with Pooka, giving him the rest of her licked chicken thigh, laughing when Pooka barks in contentment at her._

She doesn't need me.

That was now the turn of a long nosed man to buy a train ticket.

Dimitri would be the next. He looked at the station box office and gasped painfully. He knew all he had to do was to buy a ticket and he would be out. Therefore he calmly dug his left hand in his overcoat pocket to fumble with his money and…

 _She doesn't._

He felt something frail between his fingers. That was not cold as the metal. His heart stopped. He knew what it was. He knew where it had come from. He knew what it meant. He pulled it out of his pocket.

It had already blossomed.

He couldn't help but smile genuinely at that vision. Anya's flower in his hands, a rose. _Une rose_. He suddenly realized what he wanted.

He wanted a chance in life. He wanted happiness. He wanted love. He wanted Paris. He wanted light. He wanted tenderness. He wanted Anya.

 _Vous êtes le prochain._

Dimitri woke up from his reverie by a soft touch of a feminine hand. He stared at her blankly, not yet recovered from his epiphany. After figuring out what was happening, he squeezed slightly the woman's shoulder and babbled a couple of incomprehensive words as he guided his body out of the line.

He left _la Gare des Invalides._

* * *

 **Author´s notes:**

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **This is the first story I write based on Anastasia's fictional universe. I'm so glad I made it! I've been planning this for so long! Cheers!**

 **Well, now I think I owe you some explanations. Firstly, the names of streets, monuments and places found in this story are real. I wrote this story based on a 1920 Paris' map. Still, in order to create a more realistic French ambiance, I also chose to use French words and expressions sometimes. Here you find the meanings to them:**

 ** _"Gare des Invalides"_ means _" "Invalids' station"._**

 ** _"Touner à la gauche"_ means _"Turn to the left"._**

 ** _"Vous ètes le prochain"_ means _"You're the next"._**

 **There is only one word in Russian _, "shlyukhy",_ which means _"sluts"._**

 **If I forgot something, please tell me. I also ask you to correct me when necessary. English is not my first language. Thank you very much for reading this so far. I hope you guys enjoyed it!**

 **Next chapter will be released soon!**


	2. Two Drifters

**Second Chapter**

 **Two Drifters**

* * *

-The last boat of the night will depart in two minutes!

Dimitri's miscalculated voice reached Anya's ears all clangorous and screechy, and she knew she could no longer restrain the loud laughter formed in her belly when he stopped in front of her. His messed up hair matched ridiculously his ripped clothes, as well as the devastated look on his face seemed to perfectly fit in his recent bent posture. She laughed loudly and openly, and that yielded Dimitri's face a crimson blush. He was gasping for air, and the mix of disbelief and irritation in his eyes made Anya regret her sneering laughter and want desperately to hug him tight. He divined her intentions and prevented from her embrace by getting up tall as to regain some dignity.

-You were laughing?! We _really_ have to hurry! Come on!

Dimitri took her hand recklessly, and they staggered towards the small ship. Judging by the curt tone in his voice and the way he grasped her hand, Anya assumed he wasn't in the mood for any bantering, thus she decided to follow him without questions or complaint. She could do that later. The night would be long, she knew that, but first they needed to get on board. Once they embarked, they could do anything they wanted to. Just a matter of seconds and they would be talking unreservedly about everything she was curious about. Actually she had a ton of questions to pose him, and she had a lot of things to say to him as well.

She yearned so fervently for that moment that her legs started to tremble underneath her stuffy dress. If he had seen or sensed her quiver, she could possibly fool him by telling it was due to her inexperience with high heels… She grinned at that thought, and her smile would've been wider if Dimitri hadn't squeezed her sweating hand as to draw her attention. She looked at him instantly and understood what he wanted her to see.

-Here we are! - and Dimitri's hands relaxed in hers.

All Anya could do in response was to let a funny giggle flow through her chest out to the cold air around the Seine, making Dimitri chuckle on his turn. Then Anya's giggle turned into a high-pitched laugh, drawing the other passengers' attention. Nevertheless they couldn't stop their joyful silliness.

They seemed to be old friends after a lavish boozing.

When it felt impossible not to have the other in the arms, they exchanged an understanding look and fumbled in search for each other. And when they finally locked themselves in an affectionate and tight embrace, they squirmed a little, for that was something their bodies needed for so long. Then Anya leaned her head on Dimitri's shoulder and rubbed her lips against the stiff skin of his neck.

-You know everyone here is looking at us, don't you? - she whispered to his ear in a playful tone.

-Yeah, yeah, I know.

-Any brilliant idea to solve this issue, maestro? - she teased, her mouth dropping the words blandly.

-Well, actually I have one. - he tried his best at not sounding too cocky, but the way she was teasing him had already awakened his smuggest self.

-And that consists of...

-Getting a more private place! - he giggled as to repress the imminent embarrassment, but the redness on his face denounced his state to Anya, causing her a soft tingle in the stomach.

She folded one arm around his and led them backwards.

-You're a genius, always knew that!

* * *

The boat was really small, much smaller than the one they took in Germany, Anya noted as they waded along the boat's passageway. Well, after all that was a riverboat, she conceded.

While they walked, their steps slow and firm, as if the boat's swing depended on their pace, Anya peeked Dimitri's face with the corner of her eye, hoping she could tell what was going through his mind.

At the deck, for there wasn't much more where to go, they stopped. _La Seine_ was calm and still, since the dark clouds had been replaced for a dozen little shining stars, which spread beautifully across the cerulean skies. Anya looked up to contemplate the stunning blue above, and all was silent and mild. The only sounds she could hear were those from their own peaceful breaths combined with a soft noise came from the boat's prow ripping the water. The night was perfect, she thought. And then she glanced at Dimitri intently. He was grinning. They stared at each other lingeringly, reading one another's thoughts and desires. Dimitri seemed almost translucent to her. She knew he felt the same; she knew he wanted the same. They were together on a boat again, and this time there would be no interruptions or inner guilt to set them apart.

Suddenly Anya remembered that Pooka came along with them, but she didn't bother to look for him. Instead she turned to Dimitri and whispered to his ear again.

-You know, that will sound kind of weird…

-Yes? - he pointlessly tried to hold back his excitement.

-Well.. I want to waltz! – Anya said, and Dimitri could see no hint of embarrassment in that. Anya was definately braver than him.

-Me too.

After bowing at each other, their bodies arranged in a steady and even frame, they swept and twirled across the empty deck. At this point, Anya had utterly forgotten every question she planned to ask Dimitri, and all she could hope for was a fond and warm kiss. As if he had sensed her thoughts on his own skin, he got closer to her. She mimicked him, eyes never severing their contact. When the distance between them was so short they could no longer see each other properly, their eyes shut close synchronously. Anya's mouth opened, her heart pounding fiercely. Dimitri did the same, and then their mouths sank in one another. At the beginning, they both were satisfied in just feeling the soft touch and heat of the other's mouth; however, as the hunger was becoming less and less ignorable, Anya opened her mouth wider so that he could feel encouraged to go deeper. Unhesitantly he plunged his slick tongue in her mouth, deeply pleasing her. On her turn, she stretched hers and licked his blandly, and she could swear she heard a half groan coming out from him. After, she tilted her head, and he followed her, their mouths deep inside each other. And desire wouldn't let them stop. Anya has just found out how good a kiss could be, but she knew they weren't done yet. She has decided to go as far as her abilities let her to. Dimitri's mouth certainly had wonders she didn't know yet.

Her hands slid from his chin to his neck, and the kiss got even deeper. He gripped her waist harder, causing both bodies to tremble. Tongues had found their pace, slow and lingering, and every flick performed by Dimitri's one put Anya's lower parts on fire, making her unconsciously rub her body against his so that she could ease herself. When he sucked her lower lip she obliged him with a rash groan, and they realized they couldn't breathe anymore.

* * *

-Pooka is sleeping. Probably tired from this day's multiple adventures… - Anya sat beside Dimitri and stretched her long legs on the wooden floor.

-Yeah. And we should do the same. – Dimitri's dark circles seemed deeply notched under his eyes.

-You're right. – she yawned and laid on the floor clumsily.

-Well, let's go to out cabin then. - Dimitri's body was already on his way up.

-No! - she protested before letting out another yawn.

Dimitri staggered and turned back to his sitting position, very concerned.

-Why not? - his eyes danced in confusion.

-Here is good! - her body was already perfectly adjusted to the floor and she showed no will to get up.

-No, here is cold!

-Oh, please, Dimitri! Look at these skies! - she lifted her body cose so she could look at the sky.

-Beautiful, I know. -he stated dryly. - But we are supposed to sleep. Look, we didn't rest since we arrived in Paris. - his voice softened a little.

-Well, I did. – she said curtly.

-You did? - his eyes suddenly acquired a new defiant light. - Right, but I don't. And believe me: even if you _did_ rest, you should do this again. Current night's events were too grueling, don't you think?

-Of course, Dimitri. And I do want some sleeping too, but right here, under these skies. - she raised her hands, palms up to the sky.

-Oh, God!

-I thought you could sleep through anything.

-What?! – Dimitri frowned, genuinely confused.

-Well, Vlad told me that. - she shrugged.

-Vlad was wrong. I can't sleep here.

-Why not? -she tilted her head slightly, and her brow contracted into an inquisitive expression.

Dimitri let out a sigh of impatience.

-How stubborn you are, dear Lord!

-How religious you are, dear shit!

Dimitri let out another impatient sigh.

-Anya, can you just come with me? - he lowered his voice as to put on a patronizing tone.

-No! – she turned her back to him.

-Alright, then. You sleep here. I'm leaving.

-Okay! Goodnight! – and she laid down on the cold floor again.

Dimitri went downstairs, where he would find the way to their cabin. Anya believed for a while he would walk back upstairs to find her, but a half hour had passed and she saw no sign of him. Surely he was really exhausted and must have passed out as soon as he's got on bed.

She tossed and turned on the floor until she could find a comfortable position to be in. As she finally settled she began to sense the pleasant boat's motion propagating waves throughout her body, calming her as a mother lulls her baby. Soon slumber came to upheaval her thoughts.

She couldn't understand her own acts. Why did she want to discuss such subject with him? He paid the cabin and he would sleep there, of course. He was practical and commonsense. Why did she want to stay outside, feeling the cold air of the night, sleeping on a damp floor? She could be now with him on a cozy bed, nestled between his arms. That didn't make sense. Earlier they've decided to elope. Now they were sleeping separately. Why did she do that?

Suddenly a chilly breeze reached the bare skin of her shoulders. She remembered the coat Dimitri had lent her was lying somewhere on the floor.

* * *

A couple of sunbeams stroked her tired body, and she opened her eyes calmly. The day had upraised. She smiled at that revelation and tried to get up, but her body couldn't grant her that.

-Oh, shit! - she sighed.

* * *

After a half hour trying to find their cabin, with Pooka at her feet, Anya stopped at the "14b" door and knocked on it.

It took a few seconds to Dimitri to open the door and show off with a fool grin on the face. They remained in silence until Dimitri stepped aside so that Anya could walk in the minuscule room.

He shut the door close behind him, his attention completely on her.

-Sorry for that, Dimitri. I'm _really_ sorry. - the emphasis made her face twitch into a concerned grimace.

Dimitri tried hard not to laugh.

-That's okay. But I still don't understand why in the hell you decided to stay on the deck. You're mad! - his tone was between the reprimand and the pleasantry.

-I know. And I don't understand as well. - she shrugged.

-Let's forget that! - he said lightheartedly.

-Yes. You're right. - she paused for a moment. - Did you sleep well?

-Actually... no.

-No?! Why not? -she was surprised both for his sincerity and for the fact he couldn't sleep decently.

Vlad was really wrong.

-Well, firstly there was a certain woman sleeping on a deck. And that certain woman likes to jump off from boats sometimes.

Anya giggled nervously. He changed the subject.

-Secondly there was a certain live statue which happened to shatter right above my head.

-Oh! – Anya dragged her hand up to her mouth. - Does that still hurt?

She got closer to him.

-A little.

-A lot. You weren't even able to…

-A lot, I agree.

-Can I see it? - she asked carefully.

-Which one?

-How many do you have?!

-Two, just two. - he tried to diminish the importance of the thing.

-Well, one on your head and another one on… your stomach, as I remember.

-Perfect!

-Let me see this. - she demanded without a second thought.

-Which one?

-Does that matter? - Anya pouted. - The stomach then.

-Okay.

He raised his shabby tight undershirt until the bruise was fully exposed. She skimmed her hand over the spot before pressing her fingers carefully on it. He gasped.

-Does that… - she squeezed the side of his abdomen, watching his facial expressions.

-Aw, aw! Hurts.

-Well, I'll bring you some ice. It can't do bad after all.

-Don't you want to see the other one?

-The head, of course! Let me see.

Dimitri lowered his head and pressed his fingers on the bruise.

-Here.

She took his head with both hands and caressed his sleek hair. He purred, and she knew that was a sign of pleasure, not pain.

-Wow, this is a big one!

-I know. I'm lucky I'm still alive.

She glanced at him lovingly, but inside she felt a cold shiver roll under her skin.

He could be dead. She could be dead.

They marvelled at the uncanny silence set between them. They knew which disquieting thoughts were running through one another's mind.

Both could be dead.

Anya broke the silence.

-We _really_ need some ice. Wait here. I'm gonna fetch it. - she could bet her lungs he felt as relieved as her.

-I'll wait. -he attempted to smile, but he only managed to draft a grimace.

Anya saw that.

* * *

After ten minutes, she arrived.

-Got it! - she raised the cloth with ice in the air charmingly.

He said no word. Instead, he waited for her to approach him.

-Uh! Let's do it. Raise your shirt.

He obeyed and leaned back on the bed backrest. She sat on the edge of the small bed and put the rag and ice on the bruise, making Dimitri shriek.

-That's cold! -he whined.

-Of course this is cold. It's ice.

-I know, I know. Just slipped that out. It's cold, you know?

She giggled.

The following minutes remained silent. Once in a while, they exchanged playfull looks. Dimitri broke the sweet silence.

-Anya, I want to ask you something.

She was expecting something like that to come out from his mouth since she sensed his belly become tense and his breath heavier.

-You can ask me. Just say it! – she tried to sound cool.

-Please, don't get offended. - he gestured with his hands as if he was trying to calm a raging animal.

-Now you're scaring me.

He giggled.

-No, no. It's nothing serious.

-Go forward, then.

-Well, okay. Anya… - he sighed. - Did you decide to sleep on the deck last night because... - He trailed off. Anya encouraged him with her eyes. -Uh! Because you were afraid?

She grimaced, completely confused.

-Afraid? Of what exactly? - she queried.

-Of… you know, sleeping with me. I mean, sleeping beside me.

-What? No, no, of course not. Why would I be afraid of that?

-Well... I was.

She looked at him with curiosity.

-You were?! Why? - her voice sounded even sweeter than she intended.

-Well, you know… it's you. - he said simply.

-I didn't get your point. -she stated with sincerity.

-Hum… Anya… it's too scary, don't you think? You and I, this place. Paris.

-Scary? - her face was still in confusion.

-Yes, scary. I'm so happy! - Dimitri said as if the mere mention of the word could break it.

-Is that scary?

-Too scary. I mean, a month ago I was in St. Petersburg selling stolen things. And now... I…

-And now you have me.

-Exactly.

-And I have you. - she paused for a while. - You're right. Yeah, it's scary. Too good to be true, huh?

-You've got my point.

As she didn't reply, Dimitri continued.

-Anya, did you sleep on the deck because you were afraid?

-No.

-Sure?

-Yeah, Dimitri. I'm sure. But I still don't know what was happening with me. -she paused. - Or I do… - she said to herself.

-You do? - the excitement in his voice amused Anya.

-Yes. Maybe. Perhaps I was... you know... afraid.

-I knew it! -the clap of his hands surprised Anya, and she blinked.

-No, no. I wasn't afraid of sleeping with you. No! - she said firmly. - I was afraid that… you know... that moment ended. - she puffed.

-What do you mean? Now I don't get your point.

-You know, Dimitri, everything: the sky, the dancing, the laughs, the kisses… I wanted to lay down on that floor forever!

-Well, you stood up to a whole chilly night there. Not bad. - he mocked. - But, _you know,_ lying there for a night or forever wouln't be the same without me.

Anya laughed.

-I know, I know. It's just that... I don't know.

They giggled.

-Neither do I.

-Dimitri?

-What?

-You don't make any sense too. - she teased.

Dimitri brow frowned.

-Yeah. You said you were worried about me, however, you didn't show off on the deck the whole night.

-How can you be so sure? You're a sound sleeper. - he hinted.

-Oh! Does that mean...

-Yeah. I've been watching you. You really think I'd leave you alone on a deck?! - he feigned indignation.

-I can't belive it! You're crazy! Why didn't you sleep with me on the deck then?

-Did you forget already? I'm a coward.

-No, you aren't.

-Yes, I am. I could have stayed with you.

-No, no. I was the stubborn one. You paid for this cabin.

-I did. But it doesn't matter. Look, Anya…

-What?

-We have to get used to each other.

She nodded. The ice was becoming water in her hands.

* * *

 **Author's notes: Hope you guys enjoyed this one! Reviews would make my day! ;)**

 **Next chapter will be posted soon!**


End file.
